2008-11-06
Entry tags:
[Fic] Maggot: A Whimsical Fancy
Title: Maggot: A Whimsical Fancy
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson
Rating: PG
Word Count: 609
Summary: Three anniversaries in a relationship
A/N: Written for this meme and because Fluffy wanted Hermione/Pansy hatesex, which was not in keeping with the meme so I turned it into Hermione/Pansy contentious!marriage. Which really has nothing to do wiht hatesex and is not pornographic at all. The title refers to the fact that the person (or one of them) who calls English Country dance is fond of telling us that a maggot originally was a whimsical fancy. I have no idea if this is true or not.
On their 0th anniversary, Hermione was fed up. With everything; with Ron, with the aftermath of the damn war, with everyone whining and complaining about how it should magically have made everything better when Harry had killed Voldemort. She spent more time alone so she could spend less time snapping at the people who had been her friends, who were still her friends, but there were times...
Pansy Parkinson was just the thing she needed. A good hair-pulling, screaming match, each of them hurling insults and accusations at the other. Pansy was representative of everything that had gone wrong at Hogwarts, the cause of all her friends' deaths. Hermione was the same, for her, and they made a good go of it until the windows were shaking with their screams.
No curses, though. Thank goodness for small favors and self-control.
Afterwards Hermione burst out crying and Pansy, in a fit of uncertainty and worried about getting yelled at by overly-empowered Gryffindors, attempted to comfort her. This began as little more than a pat-pat on the shoulder and a very awkward there-there-ing. It ended with an imprudent amount of alcohol and both of them bemoaning the reputations of their houses having overwhelmed them as people. Hermione spent the end of the evening thinking how good Pansy's hair smelled and wondering why she had gone to bed mostly dressed but woke up in only half her underwear.
On their 5th anniversary Pansy commented that it could hardly be seen as an anniversary, really, what with the amount of time they had spent apart, and that had led into a fight that kept them on opposite sides of London for half the day. Around dinnertime it was Pansy who went over to the library with an apology bag of take-out and some flowers.
They shared apology take-out, which had become something of a tradition, on the couch in Hermione's loft and discussed her impending separation from Ron who, to be fair, still loved her. But they just didn't understand each other anymore and so many things that had loomed so large and important in their youth were now replaced with things like bills and taxes and legislations and long pages of things that made sense to her but had never been clear to him, while she seemed so much less fiery in her ripe old age of twenty four. Pansy made some casual remark about Ron that resulted in Hermione's face turning almost purple and apology take-out almost turning into the next missile launched in their next feud, except that she held up her hands and apologized. She hadn't meant it to sound that way.
They fell asleep later that night watching TV on the couch in mid-explanation as Hermione tried to untangle the various plots of that week's EastEnders, a guilty pleasure, or so she said.
On their 10th anniversary Hermione fell into a grand sulk and fit of temper over a piece of legislation that had somehow squeaked past despite massive or at least vocal opposition, and Pansy had to apply three hours' worth of massages and hot baths and chocolate and soothing words to get her to something less than murderous fury. Afterwards Hermione apologized for ruining their anniversary, to which Pansy responded that they'd never had one go right thus far, why should they start now? Hermione, not breaking stride for one moment, promptly agreed with her and suggested that they should get married so as to go on ruining each other's lives more conveniently. (When pressed, she admitted that it was not originally her line, but thieved from a book. Pansy snorted and said that was typical.)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson
Rating: PG
Word Count: 609
Summary: Three anniversaries in a relationship
A/N: Written for this meme and because Fluffy wanted Hermione/Pansy hatesex, which was not in keeping with the meme so I turned it into Hermione/Pansy contentious!marriage. Which really has nothing to do wiht hatesex and is not pornographic at all. The title refers to the fact that the person (or one of them) who calls English Country dance is fond of telling us that a maggot originally was a whimsical fancy. I have no idea if this is true or not.
On their 0th anniversary, Hermione was fed up. With everything; with Ron, with the aftermath of the damn war, with everyone whining and complaining about how it should magically have made everything better when Harry had killed Voldemort. She spent more time alone so she could spend less time snapping at the people who had been her friends, who were still her friends, but there were times...
Pansy Parkinson was just the thing she needed. A good hair-pulling, screaming match, each of them hurling insults and accusations at the other. Pansy was representative of everything that had gone wrong at Hogwarts, the cause of all her friends' deaths. Hermione was the same, for her, and they made a good go of it until the windows were shaking with their screams.
No curses, though. Thank goodness for small favors and self-control.
Afterwards Hermione burst out crying and Pansy, in a fit of uncertainty and worried about getting yelled at by overly-empowered Gryffindors, attempted to comfort her. This began as little more than a pat-pat on the shoulder and a very awkward there-there-ing. It ended with an imprudent amount of alcohol and both of them bemoaning the reputations of their houses having overwhelmed them as people. Hermione spent the end of the evening thinking how good Pansy's hair smelled and wondering why she had gone to bed mostly dressed but woke up in only half her underwear.
On their 5th anniversary Pansy commented that it could hardly be seen as an anniversary, really, what with the amount of time they had spent apart, and that had led into a fight that kept them on opposite sides of London for half the day. Around dinnertime it was Pansy who went over to the library with an apology bag of take-out and some flowers.
They shared apology take-out, which had become something of a tradition, on the couch in Hermione's loft and discussed her impending separation from Ron who, to be fair, still loved her. But they just didn't understand each other anymore and so many things that had loomed so large and important in their youth were now replaced with things like bills and taxes and legislations and long pages of things that made sense to her but had never been clear to him, while she seemed so much less fiery in her ripe old age of twenty four. Pansy made some casual remark about Ron that resulted in Hermione's face turning almost purple and apology take-out almost turning into the next missile launched in their next feud, except that she held up her hands and apologized. She hadn't meant it to sound that way.
They fell asleep later that night watching TV on the couch in mid-explanation as Hermione tried to untangle the various plots of that week's EastEnders, a guilty pleasure, or so she said.
On their 10th anniversary Hermione fell into a grand sulk and fit of temper over a piece of legislation that had somehow squeaked past despite massive or at least vocal opposition, and Pansy had to apply three hours' worth of massages and hot baths and chocolate and soothing words to get her to something less than murderous fury. Afterwards Hermione apologized for ruining their anniversary, to which Pansy responded that they'd never had one go right thus far, why should they start now? Hermione, not breaking stride for one moment, promptly agreed with her and suggested that they should get married so as to go on ruining each other's lives more conveniently. (When pressed, she admitted that it was not originally her line, but thieved from a book. Pansy snorted and said that was typical.)
(no subject)
I just realized something. Sarah Palin is the Anne Rice of politics.
So, I had a minor accident today, of the oh crap that came sooner than expected variety. My femininity reasserted itself. So, being downtown and in a store full of women who no longer need such items, I went to the drug store and purchased an emergency supply. The clerk put it in a brown paper bag, which, I thought, would hold all my items.
No, evidently that was a brown paper privacy bag. I was much amused.
The aunt sugggests that this is because they are Palestinian and perhaps more accustomed to a greater modesty than we have in America. Possibly. Either way, I was rescued from a potentially icky day.
The Prop 8 Fic Meme goes apace! Yay! I still have at least two more fics to write for it and then... at leastthree four five other things to write, plus Nano. At the very least. Oi. I need to stop adding things on to my to-do list until I finish the ones I have. Oh yes. On the other hand, I also got 3,000 words plus written just this morning, which means I am in a writing mood of BOOYAH. ALso, this story of mine is going along far, far more smoothly so far than either Pen or even Sophie went. I am stoked. Wyatt, I am rolling. Hi, this is your totally-stoked kitty speaking.
Which is probably good because the mail order sale continues to loom.
So, I had a minor accident today, of the oh crap that came sooner than expected variety. My femininity reasserted itself. So, being downtown and in a store full of women who no longer need such items, I went to the drug store and purchased an emergency supply. The clerk put it in a brown paper bag, which, I thought, would hold all my items.
No, evidently that was a brown paper privacy bag. I was much amused.
The aunt sugggests that this is because they are Palestinian and perhaps more accustomed to a greater modesty than we have in America. Possibly. Either way, I was rescued from a potentially icky day.
The Prop 8 Fic Meme goes apace! Yay! I still have at least two more fics to write for it and then... at least
Which is probably good because the mail order sale continues to loom.